


The "Get Along" Closet

by TornWrites



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst?, Claustrophobia, M/M, an excuse to write in metaphors at 2am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 04:30:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12473540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TornWrites/pseuds/TornWrites
Summary: Who builds closets this small anyway?





	The "Get Along" Closet

**Author's Note:**

> I only write when fuelled with spite and at a ridiculous time in the morning

Burning heat crawled along his cheeks like flames, followed by redness he wished he could blame on actual burns, but was in fact his own body’s reaction to how close Lance was to him. His own breath was caught in his throat, but from Lance’s nose came the softest breeze that fanned the fire and allowed it to grow stronger, spread, and allowed the scalding red to get deeper and deeper until he was afraid his own body would give him third degree burns. 

“And don’t come out until you two can get along!” Came Shiro’s final warning, before his footsteps faded into the distance of the ship, soft clicks came from his shoes and travelled unhelpfully through the crack at the bottom of the door, before fading out into silence.   
Or, almost silence. 

Lance’s breathing was getting heavy, and Keith wanted to step back and complain about the smell of his breath- even though nothing was wrong with the scent, but he was still agitated from their last argument that he wanted to pettily complain- but instead he silently turned his head to the side.   
“You’re not claustrophobic are you?” Keith asked in a tone he hoped was teasing. He knew that even in the low light of the closet they had been locked in Lance would be able to see the burning red that refused to leave his face, maybe even feel the heat radiating from him as if his face really was alight with flames. 

The usually calming blue that was the sky was turning into a panicked, constant movement, as if his sky was turning into a storm at sea. Each shaky breath in from Lance reminded him of a boat, about to tip over from the hectic waves, and no lifeboats in sight.   
“Of course not.” Came his shaky reply. Keith could almost feel the bars of a boat railing press into his back, feeling himself almost fall into the deep blue that would certainly kill him. “Being scared of small spaces is for babies.” 

Keith teetered on the edge of the railing, the fire under his skin dying away with each splash of water the ocean would provide below him. He stared into it’s depth, wondering just how far it would go.   
He willingly jumped in.

Keith’s hand sunk its way past Lance’s side, gently caressing the edge of his jacket as he reached for the handle of the door. He tried it once, twice, three times before coming to the conclusion that it was locked.   
He felt himself drowning, the ocean crashing into him and drowning him slowly in his own panic.   
“It’s okay. Just take some deep breaths. We’ll get out of here soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> I might add another chapter or something but this was just an excuse to write in metaphors whoops


End file.
